happilyeverbeginning | when you wish upon a star (scrooge and della)

Della closed her eyes. She didn't want to see his reaction when he knew, because she knew how badly it would end. Yet he had every right now to know.

"... The moon." She said softly - if she was any further away, he might not have heard her. "I landed on the moon."

"The moon?" he echoed, shocked. "How did we miss--"

He cut himself off as a memory came to him.

...looks like a meteor strike...

"The meteor strike." He held his head in his hands, elbows propped up on the table as the full horror crash landed on his shoulders. "Ye were right there, and mah ships flew right by ye..."

"That was thanks to the moon mite." She sighed, the pain in his voice feeling like a stab to the chest.

"... There was this... bug-monster on the moon, and it needed the gold from the ship. I was trying to make a signal so someone could see me, but then it came along destroying everything, so... yeah."

Slowly, she began to walk to the desk. "I know you tried. I tried."

Scrooge swallowed, feeling sick. He looked up at her.

"Della...Ah'm sorry. Ah'm so, so sorry."

It wasn't enough. He knew it'd never be enough. He'd robbed her of ten years with her boys by not just making the blasted ship but by not ordering that pilot to investigate further. He should've started his search on the moon. It was the closest place she could've landed, after all.

She'd suffered for ten years, had to replace her own leg, all because he'd built the bloody ship and then hadn't considered the blasted rock hovering in the sky every night.

"Me too." her voice shook, and her arms were around him again, holding him tight. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry for everything I did to our family."

She had thought the ship would bring them closer - give her boys a unique experience - but after all those years alone, she had been forced to see the truth.

She was selfish. She was bored. She was impulsive. And for all that, she hurt the people she loved the most. She didn't deserve their forgiveness, and would never ask for it.

He sobbed and held her tightly, bringing her to his chest and cupping the back of her head with his hand, running his fingers through her hair.

"Ye've got nothin' ta apologize fer," he whimpered. "Ah'm just glad ye're home. That's all Ah e'er wanted."

Even if she hated him, at least she would've been home. That was all that mattered. He would've freely spent every last cent to find her if the buzzards hadn't reminded him that it wasn't just his livelihood he'd been destroying.

"If you want to bankrupt yourself, that's your business," Bradford Buzzard had snapped. "But if you value your employees as much as you claim, you'll stop this madness before you sink the company and leave all of them penniless!"

Edited 2019-03-09 20:35 (UTC)

Seeing him in tears broke her again. Della's eyes watered, and she rested her head on his shoulder, whimpering once or twice. She couldn't remember if she'd ever seen him cry before this night. And now he was and she was the cause.

"I... I can't make up for this," She knew it, but felt it had to be said. "But I'll never do anything so... so stupid again. I won't let anyone or anything take me from my family." Even herself. She'd lock herself up in the mansion and never leave its safe doors again.

"Just... just let me stay. Don't hide from me anymore... don't keep anymore secrets. Just... let me stay."

If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up. Let him stay here with her and have her sleep in a bed just down the hall from his room that he can peek in and check on her any time he wanted to like when she was small.

"As long as ye want ta be here, mah doors are always open ta ye," he whispered harshly, tilting his head to nuzzle her cheek feathers with his beak.

Even if she decided to leave in the morning with the boys and Donald, he wouldn't stop them. Because at least for one shining moment, his family was whole again.

She felt like a child again - when Scrooge would chide the twins for having such dirty feathers, scuffling through them with his beak for a quick second. It always tickled.

"I never want to leave. Never, never, never again." She mumbled, the weight of the night finally catching up on her. She was exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally. "My babies... my boys... they've been through so much. And you protected them, and taught them... you really did become their uncle."

"Ye give me too much credit," he chided gently. "Ah've only known them a year. Donald did the hard work."

He sniffed, glancing at the clock.

"Ye should get some sleep. The lads'll want ta talk more with ye in the mornin'."

"... Still making sure I don't stay up past my bedtime." A tired chuckle. "One condition."

She pulled back to see his face. "... Don't let go of my hand. Not until... I really am asleep." And this really wasn't a dream.

He gave her a watery smile. "Jus' try an' keep me away," he told her.

He'd sat up with both of the twins multiple times when they'd been sick or had nightmares. Even if he'd had a super-important plane to catch at some godawful time the following morning because of some meeting he couldn't get out of halfway around the world. It had been so bad that at one point he'd just kept a chair in each of their rooms, knowing he'd need it sooner or later.

She squeezed his hand as they both stood up. There had been nights when she was afraid of what the future held, when her belly was full and she could barely move. But Scrooge had always been there, reassuring her that he always would be.

They walked silently in the hallway, and she began to hum the lullaby she made for her boys.

He walked with her, keeping her hand in his and ready to support her if she tripped. They probably made a sorry sight: both red-eyed from crying and limping along. Still, he wouldn't let her fall, not again.

He kept holding her hand as they reached her room--now properly aired out thanks to the combined efforts of Duckworth and Beakley--and he reluctantly let go to retrieve the old chair from its place in the corner.

Della looks around the room, memories flooding in. It'd really been so long...

She quietly laid down, detached her leg, and crawled under the sheets. She looked at Scrooge, and held out her hand for him to hold.

"... I love you, Uncle Scrooge."

Her detaching her leg made him swallow, shame welling up within him. If he hadn't been so blind...

"Ah love ye, too, Della," he told her as he took her hand between his, ooching the chair a little closer when he felt he was still too far from her. "Get some sleep. Ah'll make sure nothin' happens." He gave a weak smile, remembering when she'd been small. "Ah'm the best at huntin' the monsters under the bed, aye?"

Another quiet chuckle, her eyes closing, hand laying in his own.

"Always have been... but not so great when I needed help with algebra." She said softly, slowly beginning to drift off.

"Ah got better at it," Scrooge good-naturedly grumbled.

Even if he had struggled with it. He got points for trying, right?

He started humming an old Scottish lullaby he used to sing to the twins when they were little. Perhaps that would further help her relax.

She sighed, grateful to hear music again. She hadn't heard Earth music in so long...

It reminded her of when she was young and pregnant and afraid. And annoyed. It took so long to get out of bed that sometimes it wasn't worth the effort, and she would try to slip out when Scrooge wasn't looking.

"Must... have... snacks..." She groaned, feeling the weight of all three eggs in her belly, weighing her down like a sack of concrete.

There was one problem with carrying a sack of concrete on your front: It didn't make you very stealthy. Which was the primary reason why her trying to slip out usually ended up in her getting caught. (Scrooge did give her points for trying though.)

She was allowed to wander around the mansion. (Heck, the doctor insisted she get some exercise.) She just wasn't allowed to go out on big dangerous adventures like she was used to.

Today Scrooge found her not because he was watching her like a hawk but because he himself had felt a bit peckish after getting back from a flight. He'd spent the past four days arguing with the German distribution branch. It was good to be home.

He heard her approaching footsteps, recognizing the heavy sounds of a female duck carrying multiple eggs. "Hast du hunger, Della?" He then paused and gave his head a shake to clear it, him having gotten used to speaking and even thinking in German these past four days. "I mean, 'hungry'?"

Edited (I will stop editing. I promise.) 2019-03-09 21:55 (UTC)

"Uncle Scrooge!" She was both happy and annoyed to have him home. Happy because she missed him, annoyed that he might send her back to bed. She just got out, and it took forever!

"You just got back from Germany? Oh, I miss Germany." She whined, arms hanging at her side. "... You didn't happen to bring back any chocolate, did you? All three of these babies want sugar, pronto."

"I know, Della darlin', but doctor says you're not supposed to fly unless it's an emergency," Scrooge told her sympathetically.

He then smirked at her, playfully teasing her with "And is it the babies wanting the chocolate or you?"

He still had his bag with him because there were a few things he needed to unpack in the kitchen that he'd had to declare in Customs but he had a feeling they'd be welcome.

"How is boredom not an emergency?" When you've been adventuring all your life, boredom was the real killer!

She pouted at him - if it didn't take so much effort to move, she'd shove him. "All four of us. If you've got any goods, hand 'em over, old man."

He ignored the question, knowing he had no real answer for it. Besides, he didn't want her to point out how much of a hypocrite he was on the doctor front given he stubbornly refused to go whenever possible.

He chuckled and joked, "Help. Police. I'm being mugged by a pregnant woman." He glanced at a clock on the wall. "Almost half-past one. That'd be half-past ten in Nuremberg. Have you four had lunch yet? I'm famished." He patted his bag. "I'd be willing to share the take."

The bag had been no more than half-full when he'd left Duckburg. Now the bag was so full that it had taken effort to close the zipper...though honestly the shirt Della was wearing was showing signs of even more strain. (He'd thought the twins had grown fast in Hortense. Good gracious, how triplets could grow!)

Edited 2019-03-09 22:58 (UTC)

Della was already impulsive by nature, but pregnancy brain made it all the worse.

"GIMMIE!"

She nearly dove for the bag, grabbing it and unzipping it so quickly she almost broke it. She stabbed her hand inside, grabbed the first thing she could touch, and shoved it in her mouth, wrapped her dammed.

"Mmm." She sighed, content. "Germanyyyy..."

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